


For Luck

by DualWieldingCousland (DualWieldingMama)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Appearance by Cassandra Pentaghast, Appearance by Dorian Pavus, Appearance by Varric Tethras, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-25 13:50:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4963015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DualWieldingMama/pseuds/DualWieldingCousland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen takes Regan someplace special</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Luck

“I swear; if I never see another sand dune, it’ll be too soon.” Cassandra sighed as she swung herself off her horse.

 “I don’t want to hear it, Seeker,” Varric grumbled. “I’m _still_ trying to get sand out of Bianca’s gears. It’ll take weeks to get her up to par again.”

 “Oh, both of you hush. I have sand in places it should never be.” Dorian winced as he dismounted, handing Smoke’s reins off to a stable hand. “I am in desperate need of a bath to _try_ and remove it.”

 Regan just laughed and shook her head. “Well, if you hadn’t gone and attracted the dragon’s attention, you wouldn’t have taken a bath in the sand.” She slid off Uktena and moved to help Varric down. One of these days, they’d stop using his nug to drag back dragon carcasses, but today was not that day. “Bull’s going to be upset with you; he didn’t get to fight this one.”

 “Well, you’ll just have to promise to take him to the next one, won’t you?” Dorian snapped lightheartedly. He would never understand the Qunari’s obsession with dragons. .

 “We’ll just let you do the apologizing for us, Sparkler,” Varric laughed, shaking his head. “Maybe you can soften the blow”

“Oh, leave him alone, Varric.” Regan had to fight to keep from laughing as Cassandra made a disgusted noise and headed off for a bath of her own. “I’m not going to use their relationship like that. _I’ll_ talk to him in the morning. Now, let Cassandra and Dorian go get cleaned up and c’mon and help me so I can get to bed.”

 ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***

It had taken longer than expected to get the mounts wiped down and stabled, and Regan could think of nothing more than stripping her armor off and curling up in bed next to Cullen. It hadn’t been terribly difficult to convince him to all but move his things into her quarters; a letter received while in the Hissing Wastes mentioned a sudden snowstorm dumping a pile of snow on his bed had helped in his decision. “Andraste’s balls, I _really_ need to come home more often,” she sighed, pushing the final door open, cringing as the hinges creaked. “And we _really_ need to remember to oil these stupid doors again.”

“Ah, there you are.” Cullen was not in the bed where she’d expected him to be at this late hour. Instead, he hovered by the large fireplace, resting one arm on the stone mantle, shirtless. He had turned to face the stairs when he heard the door open and couldn’t stop the relieved smile. Maker, he’d missed her. The scouts reports were never enough to keep him from worrying, and he knew her own letters were always too short on purpose, leaving out bits she _knew_ would cause him concern. He pushed away from the warm fire and crossed the room with quick steps, engulfing her in his arms.

She grinned tiredly, snuggling against his bare chest. She glanced over at the still-made bed. He’d either slept, gotten up and remade it … or he hadn’t been to bed yet. All things considered, she felt it was probably the latter. Her arms snaked around his waist, fingers tracing little patterns just above his trousers. “Cullen,” she purred, closing her eyes.

He smiled contently, burying his nose in her hair. It would have been a wonderfully sweet moment had he not gotten sand up his nostrils when he inhaled. Sputtering, he pulled back, crinkling his nose and making awkward faces. “You … um … love, you have sand in your hair,” he coughed, bringing a hand up to bat at his nose.

“Stupid dragon in the Western Approach,” Regan grumbled, reluctantly pushing away. “Let me see if a quick scrub can’t get rid of all this sand.” She hated to admit she was nearly as plagued by sand as Dorian. Of course, she was still going to say it was his fault; never mind the fact that if she hadn’t agreed to bait the traps Frederick had wanted, they wouldn’t have had to deal with it at all. Dorian had just been flashy enough with his magic to catch the beast’s attention, and those wings could kick up a _lot_ of sand.

He was concerned, followed her to the small room where her bath was kept. “Are you alright; no injuries this time? If I had known you were returning after facing a dragon, I could have ….” He froze as her armor fell to the floor, eyes locked on her form as she sunk into the barely warm water. He wished he had known; he could have warmed the bath for her. As it was, she would have to wait for the fire rune to do its work. He couldn’t stop the soft groan of want as her hands slid over her skin and through her hair. 

“I’m fine, this time,” she laughed, oblivious to his heated gaze on her. “We got lucky; I think the Venatori had been trying to bring her down, so she wasn’t at full strength.” She moaned softly as the water started to warm to comfortable levels. She almost didn’t want to move, but the need to get the sand out of her hair after days of travel trumped any urge to just … sprawl. “Were you waiting up for me?”

He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, fighting the urge to join her in the bath. She deserved this time without his … help. After a pause, he shrugged, trying not to look guilty. “Yes. I mean … no. I, um … I mean ….” Well, _that_ was perfectly clear, wasn’t it? He _had_ been waiting for her, but he hadn’t been totally sure that she would arrive tonight. 

“Oh, good,” she laughed before slipping fully beneath the water to rinse the soap and sand from her hair. When she resurfaced, she grinned up at him. “I’ve kept and not kept you waiting. I … I’m not sure if I should apologize or not.” She resumed her scrubbing, marveling at how soft her skin felt after scouring away the sand. 

He sighed, frustrated that he couldn’t get a proper thought out at the moment. Of course, when the woman he loved was lounging naked in the bath in front of him, could he really be faulted? “I … found it difficult to sleep, knowing you were to return,” he admitted, enjoying the smile that brightened her face. “But let me start over.” When she nodded, her light laughter echoing in the small room, he found himself smiling in return. “We have some … dealings in Ferelden. I was … hoping you might accompany me to … check on them? When you can spare the time, of course.”

“Is something wrong?” She knew the Inquisition had holdings all over both Ferelden and Orlais, but rarely did Cullen specifically request to make a trip to one of them, with or without her. The last time the pair of them had gotten to go anywhere together had been to collect her brothers from the cells in Redcliff Castle. 

“What?” He looked confused, surprised, until her question sunk in. “No, nothing’s _wrong_.” He took a breath to calm himself and exhaled slowly. “I would rather … explain there, if … if you wish to go, that is.” Maker, why was it so difficult to just _ask_ her to accompany him? He could not understand why he flipped back and forth between being confident with her and unsure of himself. He rubbed the back of his neck as he watched, waiting for her answer. 

“Of course I’ll go, Cullen.” She smiled as she climbed out of the tub, reaching for her robe. Even with the balcony doors closed and a roaring fire, the room was chilly. She walked carefully over the wet stone, doing her best not to slip. She did fine until she looked up and saw the hunger in his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat and she slid across the floor, stumbled into his firm chest and warm embrace. It was almost like she’d planned it, except for the twinge in her ankle. “I … um, we ….” She swallowed hard, ears burning as she gripped his arms, looking up at him. “In the morning?” she whispered, licking her lips. “We can … we can go after I speak with Bull?” 

He nodded, lifting her back into a standing position. He brought his lips to hers, ghosting gentle kisses once, twice, three times, before she growled and practically devoured his. When they broke for air, he grinned, fingertips tickling her sides. “I will … make the necessary arrangements.” His words came in a low tone, voice edged with want. “Wait for me? I will … be right back.” He chuckled at her soft whimper, pulling her tightly against him for one more kiss. “I … promise I will hurry, love.” When she nodded, pouting, he headed for her desk, scribbled a couple small notes and made for the stairs. He wanted to leave messages for a few key people. There was also a request for Master Dennet to have Angel and Thranduil saddled and ready after the morning meal. 

She thought about climbing into bed to wait for him, but there was the fear that she would simply fall asleep before he returned and she certainly didn’t want _that._ So, instead, she pulled out another satchel of yarn and started working. She knew it was silly, having satchels of yarn scattered all over Skyhold, but it gave her the chance to keep working, no matter where she was. And this one was special. Or, it was going to be, when she was done with it … she hoped. Only a few minutes passed before he returned, the familiar sound of his boots on the stairs encouraging her to swiftly stow the yarn and satchel out of sight and scramble to meet him at the top of the stairs. 

He saw her waiting, rushed up the stairs and wrapped his arms around her, plucking her off the floor. Her answering laugh brought a smile to his face as he headed for the bed. “Our mounts will be ready after breakfast,” he informed her before kissing her. As she seemed to melt against him, he lowered her to the bed. “And now, it’s time for a proper welcome home.”

                ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***

“We’re here.” Cullen pulled Angel to a halt as they neared what looked to be a small lake in the middle of a valley. When Regan pulled alongside, he dismounted and guided both mounts to a nearby fence. Once her feet hit the ground, he led her to an old pier, smiling nervously. He hadn’t been here in years but … everything looked and felt just as it had before. Well, not exactly. He’d never brought anyone here … not even in his youth. He glanced at their joined hands, feeling small butterflies in his stomach.

“Where is ‘here’?” she asked, giving his hand a squeeze. She knew Redcliff was nearby; several of the roads they’d taken had been very familiar. It was pretty; the surface of the lake was calm. She could even see a few waterfowl floating in the distance. The plains around it were a lush green, the air was cool and the nearby Frostbacks made for an almost romantic silhouette. She felt like she _should_ know where they were, but … didn’t.

He smiled faintly, leaning against one of the rails along the dock. “Someplace … safe,” he replied hesitantly. “You walk into danger every day,” he murmured, looking out over the lake. The still water helped calm his nerves. He realized if he ever wanted to take their relationship further … to propose, he’d probably need to come here to do so; he’d be a nervous wreck otherwise. Maker, was he _really_ considering _that_? “I wanted to take you away from all that, if only for a moment.” He glanced over at her, saw her smile, and felt his heart skip a beat. Even in the shadows, the moonlight, she just … glowed, and not just because of the mark.

“This is …. Honneleath is near here, isn’t it?” Recognition hit her just as he looked at her. He’d taken her _home_? Well, to his childhood home, at any rate. He’d said his family moved elsewhere in Ferelden, hadn’t he; Southreach, wasn’t it?

He nodded, smiling as he pointed off just a hair to the west. “I grew up not far from here,” he explained, looking back over the water. “I found this place while exploring one day. It was always … quiet.” He was pleasantly surprised when she moved closer, lifting his arm so she could snuggle against him. “I loved my siblings,” he laughed, turning to nuzzle her hair. He let the scent of peppermint wash over him and sighed. “I still do, of course. But they could be very … loud. Especially once Mia and Rosalie were old enough to argue about boys and clothes, or Branson wanted attention. I would come here to clear my head.” He brushed his lips against her hair and chuckled. “Of course, they always found me eventually.”

“You were happy here.” It wasn’t really a question. The look on his face as he talked, the sound of his voice … it was easy to see this place held fond memories for him. She felt … honored that he would feel comfortable enough with her to bring her … show her someplace he considered … special.

“I was,” he nodded. “I still am.” He could think of no one else he would rather be here with. Her company was enough to make him forget about everything that was troubling, at least for a little while.

She smiled, enjoying the feel of his arm around her. She had been surprised he was willing to forgo his armor on this trip, though he _was_ wearing a furred cloak that looked suspiciously like the mantle he wore with his armor. She thought of his desk back at Skyhold, stacked with reports and only growing more cluttered while they were gone; couldn’t stop the chuckle. “How will ever you survive without a parade of messengers and war reports?” she teased, knowing they would have at least a full day of peace before returning to Skyhold. There would be no messengers to interrupt them, no war reports to distract him; just the two of them, finally.

“I should be able to last until we return.” He stood a little straighter, running over the preparations he made before even bringing it up in her chambers … _their_ chambers? Could they really consider it _their_ chambers if they’d hardly spent any time together there yet? He’d sent notices to both Josephine and Leliana advising of his intent to be gone for a few days, and that he intended on leaving after the Inquisitor returned. He’d made the arrangements for his troops to continue their training with Cassandra and Bull’s supervision. He’d instructed James to file the multiple reports on his desk. His brief disappearance after finding out she _would_ accompany him was simply to send messages to all involved that the Inquisitor would be joining him. “Besides, I told Leliana to send word if ….”

She couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. She pulled away, smiled and pressed her lips against his, effectively cutting off his explanation. “Cullen.” Her tone was light, teasing … only slightly tinged with what _might_ be annoyance when she broke the kiss. “You.” She stroked a finger gently along his throat to his chest. “Me,” she added, finger making little circles at the hollow of her throat. “Pretty lake.” She glanced out at the body of water next to them, contemplated stripping out of her tunic and trousers and jumping in. But she wasn’t quite sure how deep the water was, or how cold. Skinny dipping had its place, but frigid or shallow water was not it.

His eyes widened as she interrupted, arms immediately wrapping around her tightly. Why had he been thinking of anything but this moment, this woman? Was he a fool? He was surprised at the whimper that escaped when she pulled back, rubbing the back of his neck as she pointed out the things he _should_ be focusing on. “Right … of course,” he sighed softly, looking suitably embarrassed. “I … I suppose I am just … out of practice when it comes to having a beautiful woman alone, with no chance of interruption.” He lifted her chin, brought his lips close. “Allow me to make it up to you,” he whispered before closing the distance, kissing her with the intensity of a starving man presented with a four course meal.

She lost track of time, of herself in the embrace. She hadn’t expected him to respond _quite_ so intensely to her teasing, but she certainly wasn’t complaining. All she was aware of were his lips, his arms around her, his hands roaming – ghosting over every inch, teasing … promising so much more to come. She gripped at his shoulders, furred collar, back … anything she could hold onto. “Maker,” she gasped when they broke for air. “You can certainly take a hint.”

He chuckled, reaching up to run his fingers through her hair. “I’m glad you think so. Am I forgiven?” When she laughed, nodded, he grinned. Taking a breath, he looked out at the water, letting his hands rest on her hips. “The last time I was here was the day I left for templar training. My brother gave me this ….” He reached into a pocket hidden somewhere in his cloak and pulled out something round and … at one time, shiny. He held out his hand so she could see the Andrastian coin. “It just happened to be in his pocket, but he told me it was for luck.” He closed his fingers around the coin and half-smiled. “Templars aren’t _supposed_ to carry such things. Our faith is supposed to see us through.”

She grinned at him, eyes darting from his smile to the coin and back again. “Wait, so you actually _broke_ the Order’s rules? I’m _shocked_.” She reached out, ran fingertips along his arm. “Here I thought you _always_ followed orders.”

He laughed, shaking his head, fighting the urge to squirm as a shiver ran down his spine at her touch. “Until a year ago, I was _very_ good at following them … _most_ of the time.” He shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. “This was the only thing I took from Ferelden that the templars didn’t give me.” He reached for her hand, turned it palm up, and pressed the coin into her palm. “Humor me,” he murmured, wrapping her fingers around it. “We don’t know what you’ll face before the end. This … a little luck … can’t hurt.”

He was _giving_ her his lucky charm? Could she really take that? She looked from his face down to her hand, opened fingers to look at the coin … then looked back at him. He looked … hopeful, almost … desperate for her to take it. “Cullen,” she whispered, surprised to find herself fighting back tears … good tears, but tears none-the-less. “Are you … are you sure?” She saw him nod and smiled, biting her lower lip. “I … I’ll keep it safe, love.”

“Good.” He let out a breath, relief flooding his face. He knew it was stupid, believing in something as unpredictable as luck to help, but … it made him feel better, knowing she had it. “I … I know it’s foolish; a childish thought, but … I’m glad.”

“But what about you?” Regan asked quietly. “What about your luck? I don’t want to risk anything … because you’ve given me your ….”

Cullen shook his head, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Don’t worry, love. I would rather you have all the luck in Thedas keeping you safe, right now.”

She tucked the coin into the pocket of her trousers, promising herself that she would find a way to keep it secure. Taking a breath, she reached up, pulled a pendant hanging on a sturdy silver chain from under her tunic, slipped it over her head and looked at it. “Take this,” she said with a small laugh. “My … my sister … gave me this the day she married her husband. Said mother had given it to her before her first meeting with Matthew. That’s the noble in Kaiten she married. Said she hoped it would … lead me to the man worthy of … of my heart.” She held it out to him. “I know it’s not exactly a lucky charm, but … I think it did its job, and maybe … maybe it could be something that … that brings you luck?”

He reached out, gingerly taking the chain from her hand, looking at the green and silver pendant. It looked like it was carved in the shape of some sort of animal … a horse, maybe. She’d said … had she said that … did she really mean _he_ was worthy of her heart? He swallowed, felt his heart swell, stomach clench … felt a tear run down his cheek. “Are you … sure?” When she nodded, he clenched the chain in his hand, wrapped his arms around her in a hug tighter than he’d ever imagined and kissed her, thanking the Maker and Andraste with every heartbeat for bringing her to him.


End file.
